Categories

Meta

Bike Touring

About a year ago I started asking around to see if people wanted to go on a bike camping adventure. Once I rounded up the usual suspects (Fiancé, Dad, Brother) and heard from an unexpected addition (Uncle), we settled on Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.

The first step was to decide if we wanted to register for the League of Michigan Bicyclists’ group ride or venture out on our own. We wanted to have a lot of family bonding time so we opted to strike out on our own…sort of. Fiancé contacted the League and, as luck and Michigander kindness would have it, they sold us their route maps for $10!

After a few questions were answered we were practically on our way!

Are there bears? (Yes.)

Do they come in the campgrounds? (Not usually.)

Are there restaurants? (Yes. Local joints.)

Are there grocery stores? (More like convenience stores.)

Is there cell phone reception? (Ye,s but you might pick up Canadian towers.)

What is the weather going to be like? (Colder than you think.)

Is the population really that small? (Yes.)

Are people as nice as everyone says? (Yes.)

Am I really about to go on a week-long bike ride with four dudes?! (…yes.)

I found campsites, mostly conveniently located…although our first three days would end up being over 70 miles each. After consulting with the group, everything was booked except for DeTour Village State Forest which was first come, first served (that freaked me out more than a little bit since, where the heck would we GO if it was full; there were no other campgrounds anywhere nearby). Straits State Park, our start/end point, allowed us to leave our cars for the entire week FOR NO EXTRA COST. I practically dropped the phone when I heard that news. I mean, helLO! I live in DC; you can’t park for 15 minutes here for less than $20.

Now if I could just convince Dad to lighten his packs so he’d roll without an additional 50 pounds, we would be set.

Our journey began. Fiancé and I took a relaxing road trip there and I’m going to be honest with you, I think the Andy Warhol Museum is overrated. Also, while Detroit’s food scene was on point, I had no clue it would shut down completely for the July 4th holiday. After our final pit stop to check out the world’s largest Christmas store, we headed to Straits to meet up with the others.

We biked. And camped. And biked some more. We ate pizza and fudge and ice cream since we’d be “burning it off tomorrow” (I gained weight this trip so…so much for that). We took the ferry to the carless Mackinac Island and were promptly overwhelmed with the sheer number of people on bikes. We toured the island at a snail’s pace, ate some fudge, and took a nap on the next ferry out. Relaxing is exhausting! We realized how heavy our bags were and started dumping things in the car before heading out, even Dad! It rained. It was sunny. It was hot. It was cold. We were hungry; we were too full. We biked on.

I must say, it was pretty amazing to only see one Starbucks and two fast food restaurants

(if anyone asks, I did not confirm or deny that we each ordered our own pizzas at Pizza Hut). And the people, the people were so sweet. During a lightning storm a couple welcomed us into their home and chatted us up for the better part of two hours. One night a neighboring camper saw us roll in on our bikes and, not only did he bring over some wood for a fire, but he built it too. (He topped it with Doritos which are apparently super flammable although he told us Fritos are actually the best…or would that be the worst? I don’t know. Most flammable.)

And the nature. Stunning. Hello Lake Michigan, my old friend from my days living in Chicago, delightful to see your other coast. Lake Huron you say? Nice to meet you and your calm waters. And then Lake Superior…while a bit frigid I couldn’t resist stopping in, even if just to pay my respects to the late, great Edmund Fitzgerald. We saw two lighthouses and the beautiful tannin-dyed waters of the Upper and Lower Tahquamenon Falls (don’t worry, I still don’t know how to say it).

Just like that, it was over. Adios delicious breakfast places with the nicest staff on the planet. Sayonara perfect sleeping temperature for camping (40s-50s at night in JULY!? Amazing). Adieu highway shoulders littered with wildflowers instead of garbage. Au revoir ease of access to fudge. Goodbye scenery straight out of a Bob Ross painting (but for real though, look at the side by side) —>

Because biking is an adventure, an escape, a way to bring people together, a way to take some time for yourself, a vacation, that’s why I love riding my bike.

We hightailed it out of the forest and made it to the nearest town’s bakery for breakfast by 6AM. That is an early-morning record for us. Our asses were beyond sore; thank goodness chamois butt’r exists. (In case you’re unfamiliar, it is basically butt cream.)

Speaking of butts, pretty sure I mooned about 20 people. I had to pee and thought this one tree on the side of the road would offer enough coverage. It did not. So people of Puerto Rico, you’re welcome for the show! The rest of the day was pretty uneventful, except when GVP was being chased by a dog. I just kept pedaling at my slow speed and was pretty much left alone. I did almost had a meltdown because I thought I’d miscalculated the miles again and it was going to be over 30 miles instead of the 21.3 I was mentally prepared for. Crisis averted though; it was 21.3.

We rolled into our last camping location at lunchtime. I checked in at the Cerro Gordo National Parks office and paid for one night. One of the employees said he’d seen us biking yesterday. How cool is that? Local celebs? Not quite but we did run into a few people at restaurants and gas stations that said they’d seen us the day before or earlier that day. Kinda cool.

After we enjoyed our LAST mofongo with fries and sodas, we headed to a shady spot on the beach and relaxed. We did a little swimming and a lot of people watching. I swear we saw a guy who looks just like Bernie Sanders. Maybe he was taking a vacation from the campaign? There was also a guy we nicknamed Leather. I wanted to pass him our leftover SPF 90.

Our campsite was beautiful (once we moved away from the first spot we picked with the rotting dead iguana). This was the best campsite (which we deserved after the horrors from Cambalache); the bathrooms were usable but the showers looked like a scene from Saw so we decided to hold off until the Ritz the following day. We set up on a bluff overlooking a cove where waves crashed all night; we headed out to some rocks and enjoyed the panorama of nothing but ocean.

19.5 miles to go. We packed up our things one last time and headed out. I’m not going to lie, for being under 20 miles it was still rough. Everything hurt. GVP kept me motivated with his positive attitude though and we finally made it to the ferry to Old San Juan. We wheeled aboard and were at the Ritz one annoyingly long cab ride later (it’s way too dangerous to bike from Old San Juan to the hotel).

I have never had such a glorious shower.

GVP’s things are Chicago bound!

Then it was down to business: making cocktails and packing up the bikes. GVP would take his home in his suitcase. My brand new Schwinn had started to rust so I was shipping that sucker right back to where it came from. We ordered two large pizzas, which we devoured and subsequently felt sick. No regrets though. Isn’t the first time I’ve done it and probably won’t be the last.

GVP realized his flight was cancelled due to a blizzard in DC so he dealt with that (two day layover with ME in Chicago! So much for him never going there in the winter!).

We decided to treat ourselves by sleeping in until 7AM. After all, we only had 22.3 miles to bike that day.

However, we couldn’t leave the campsite until we had a good ol’ fashion photo shoot. This place was by far the weirdest place we stayed. There was a playground off the beach that had cement dinosaurs, farm animals, a blonde wonder woman, a giant hand, and more. How did kids play on this and not get hurt? In the U.S. it would definitely be a lawsuit.

Even though it was only 22.3 miles, it was still a hard day. I should have built in another rest day but I hadn’t so we pedaled on. The waves on the north shore were the biggest we’d seen after Culebra. I also saw the grossest bathroom to date that day. Desperate times though.

We stopped for lunch at this huge restaurant and had the best fish tacos of my life. Then there was a minor panic as we thought I’d lost GVP’s wallet. He’d given it to me that morning to hold and it was nowhere in my backpack. I searched my panniers. Nothing. After a few minutes of him assuring me he wasn’t mad (I wouldn’t have blamed him if he was and I’m sure he had to have been, at least a little), I FOUND IT! It was in my backpack in this little zippered part I normally don’t use; I put it there so I would remember where it was. Ridiculous.

It was of course another beautiful day. We stopped at a bakery for dinner and then headed to Cambalache State Forest where we were spending the night. I’d applied for a permit ahead of time as required and while they cashed my check, they never sent me the permit. I printed off a copy of the cashed check as proof and we headed to the office. Of course no one was there. Who works on a weekday at 3:30? After rolling my eyes so hard I thought I’d pass out, we wheeled our bikes a mile into the forest and set up camp under the picnic shelter in the camping area.

It all started out so great. We were there early. There weren’t many mosquitos. One of the bathrooms was unlocked. There was a shower house! What could go wrong? GVP went to check out the shower house. It was creepy, twists and turns around cement walls to get to the spigot with a drain below it. Then he looked up. In the rafters were tons of HUGE spider carcasses! We’re talking 4-5 inch long legs here people! Needless to say, we did not shower that night.

We only saw a couple of dead bodies in the rafters of the picnic shelter. We carefully zipped up our bags and didn’t leave anything out, just in case one had made it through the fumigation. We decided we would leave early so we could be out of the woods by daylight.

There I was sleeping when a quiet noise woke me up. I didn’t know what it was so I turned on my flashlight and looked outside the tent. There on our tarp was a spider. Please note that this spider was so big that it walking on our tarp WOKE ME UP. I woke up GVP who said it was fine. He wouldn’t be so calm when he had a close encounter in the morning! Let’s just say when he was untying the tent our friend was there waiting. GVP poked it with a stick to encourage it to move and it SWATTED AT THE STICK! We were out of there real quick after that, before it could get its friends together for an attack.

Because you don’t always know where you’ll end up, that’s why I love riding my bike.

We walked. A lot. There were so many big hills/mountains. Just when we got down the side of one there would be another. It wasn’t a long mileage day though…or at least it wasn’t supposed to be. We were going to camp at Tres Hermanos National Park for a total of 25 miles. Then I realized my calculations for the following day were off by 10 miles! That may not seem like a lot but between the tiny tires and the mountains and the gear…it was. And that day was already scheduled to be 43.2 miles with four mountains. Add another 10 miles? No thank you.

While we were at Applebees (I swear we really did have a lot of local food…mostly mofongo, but chain/American food was sometimes necessary but sorry not sorry because their blonde brownie dessert is just what we needed) for lunch I quickly Air B&B’ed a place in Rincon: 10 miles and one mountain ahead. Luckily people were attentive to their account.

A couple of hours later we were in Rincon. While we are in general, slow (we’re on vacation!), we also stopped for our first coco frio (cold coconut). It is exactly what it sounds like. The streetside vendor quickly chopped off the top and popped in a straw. I dare to say it was more refreshing than the Sprites (me) and Cokes (GVP) were guzzling down every chance we got. Then the man made another quick swipe with his machete to cut the coconuts open and chopped a coconut spoon off the side so we could eat what was left.

Rincon was my favorite town. After making a much needed stop at the laundromat, picking up a couple of frozen pizzas for dinner (uuuuhhhh…local frozen pizzas…?), we went to the beach. The Discovery Channel can call Culebra the second most beautiful beach in the world all it wants but…this one was a close contender. The waves were the perfect size (not knocking me over) and there was a rain storm out at sea. In fact it was so beautiful, GVP asked me if we could wake up early and come here for the sunrise. “No,” I said. “We’re on the west coast.” Not every ocean is a sunrise ocean.

Then we went back and enjoyed some pizza in our room.

The next day…I don’t even want to write about but I suppose I should. It was the day from hell. I have

We did see a couple of cool places that day, like this training facility.

wrecked my bike and not been in as much pain as this day. We left Rincon at 6:45AM and arrived to our campsite in Carizzales (a mere 43.2 miles mind you) AT 6PM. The thing is, we have no idea how this happened. Sure, we had to walk up four mountains…or maybe it was six. All I remember are endless mountains. The day included a scary isolated road where the bridge was out but the (one) car we saw used it so we did too, multiple BIG highways with active construction sites, GVP’s back wheel got stuck in a grate and he almost bit it (but gracefully did not), HUGE and scary downhills with no end in sight, and did I mention ALL OF THE MOUNTAINS.

We went to Subway for dinner. And frankly I don’t care if you do judge us because you don’t know what we went through that day. It SUCKED.

Because GVP sat on about 500 ants but couldn’t tell because bike shorts are so thick, that’s why I love riding my bike.

Heat is not my friend. The sun is not my friend. And will someone puh-LEASE explain to me why the 38.9 miles from Ponce to La Parguera seemed so much further?! Could it be my lack of training? Could it be my heavy bike? Or perhaps the tiny 20” wheels? Or the unexpected mountains? Perhaps.

Literally all that day was for me was mountains and heat. And fun of course. Every day on a bike is fun, even when it’s not. (Okay that’s not true.) There was also our lunchtime restaurant where we had cheap mofongo. It wasn’t our best one yet but it wouldn’t be the last.

We finally rolled into La Parguera. We were staying Yolanda’s, a hostel that was advertised on Air B&B. Normally I wouldn’t be stoked about staying in a room with no windows but that evening I was okay with not seeing the outside world. Once we got the cockroach issue sorted out (we switched rooms), the relaxing could begin. Or so I thought.

Sooo itchy! I don’t even think I got 100% of them covered.

When I got out of the shower (which was of course aaaaamazing) I realized just how many mosquito bites I had. My arms and legs looked like I had the chicken pox. GVP had apparently been attacked by ants so his ankles and feet were also pocked. I honestly don’t understand HOW we didn’t notice when we were under siege. Dinner was delicious but I was so distracted by shredding my skin open while I scratched my legs that I could barely enjoy it. Something had to be done. Enter paste (not gel) toothpaste. I’d read that if you put it on your bug bites overnight, it will dry it out and basically make them disappear! And…it worked.

The following day we had an excellent plan to beat the heat, and it didn’t involve starting to bike at midnight. We left La Parguera and headed to the lighthouse and beaches of Rojo Cabo. If all went according to plan (spoiler alert, it did) we would be there by 10:30 and would be able to hang out at the beach until 3PM. The lighthouse was a lighthouse. The cliffs in front of it were dramatic and the water at the bottom that perfect clear green/blue color everyone wishes for. We looked into the cove at the beach and headed down. It looked surprisingly empty.

Little did we know everyone was seeking shelter from the sun under the surrounding low hanging trees; the place was PACKED! We found a patch of shade to call our own, blew up our pool floatie pillows, and promptly took the best nap ever. We never did get in the water but we sure did enjoy the coconut ice cream.

Eventually we packed up and headed to Boqueron for a daily total of 29.6 miles where we’d be staying in an Air B&B. This place was the one that was listed for $150 that he let us have for $20. People can be so cool. Showers, AC, free beer. It was terrific! Top it off with dinner at a nearby Mexican restaurant and you have two happy bikers.

Because when bike camping, an issue needs MacGyver creativity to solve (because you probably don’t have what you need), that’s why I love riding my bike.

Have I mentioned the mosquitos and sun? We hit the road early to not get caught on the scary beach past sunrise and fairly promptly stopped at Subway for breakfast and Walgreens for some new bugspray and sunscreen. GVP came out with SPF 90. We’d heard the sun on the southern coast is brutal and the only thing worse than biking in the sun all day is doing so with a burn. It was like covering my body with clay. Later we would learn it was indeed waterproof. I had to scratch it off my legs in the shower. Not cool but we didn’t get burned once the whole trip so I’m grateful. I mean, some people pay a lot of money for a clay mask…right?

Those 51.2 miles to Ponce were hot. So hot. I was fine if I was sitting still in the shade drinking water (or eating ice cream) but take any one of those away and sweat was running off me.

We ran into some cool things that day. There was a mural of famous and historical Puerto Ricans and how they influenced the culture. A local came by as we were admiring it and tried to shake GVP’s hand. Being from DC he instantly thought the man was asking for money and declined his hand. Once it dawned on him what the man wanted, they had a man-to-man moment. And to answer the question I know is on your mind, yes Daddy Yankee is on the mural.

We pulled over in a hotel’s entrance for some much needed shade.
As we took in our surroundings of a bare-chested woman sculpture in the fountain and a drawing depicting a nude male and female locked in embrace, we quickly concluded that Hotel Adonis was a by the hour hotel. We laughed at what the drivers on that busy road must have thought of the two of us and our bikes and then we headed back into the sun.

Do you remember how Adventure Cycling was kind enough to give us their cue cards for this same trip that they organize and run? Well low and behold when we stopped for lunch in Salinas we ran into that trip! We talked with a few people in their group but had to get moving. Some numbers were exchanged so we could meet up later (this never happened) and we continued to see riders here and there from their group. We actually pointed them in the right direction a couple of times. They followed our advice despite not knowing who we were.

Arriving to Ponce was a relief. We would stay for two nights on the balcony of someone from Air B&B. We never did meet our host but we did meet his other Air B&B guests (two Danes who were residing inside), and our host’s father who tried to convince us to let him in the home so he could get his keys. Nothing like waking up at 2AM to a strange man standing by your tent. The morning we left we decided to sleep until 7AM since at 6AM his father was sitting creepily in a chair on the balcony. We had the pepper spray at the ready.

We went to P.F. Chang’s for dinner both nights we were in Ponce. And we went to the movies and had popcorn and a giant soda each. What can I say? We needed an American day.

Because biking lets me run into unexpected people and places, that’s why I love riding my bike.

14.7 miles have never been so difficult. We were just going from the Fajardo ferry terminal to the small fishermen’s town of Naguabo. How was it so hard? I blame the sun. I live in Chicago and appreciate a sunny day (especially during the gray months of winter) but this sun was too much. It sucked my life, my spirit, my SOUL out all day, every day; we literally (and luckily) did not have one rainy day.

After what somehow seemed like an eternity, we made it to our Air B&B. Air B&B is super useful and more flexible than it seems. Where we couldn’t find places to camp we contacted the Air B&Bs of the area and asked if we could camp on their property for $20/night. Most said no. Some said yes. One even let us use his entire house (normally $150/night) for $20 and told us to drink all the beer in the fridge (we only had a couple).

Back to Naguabo. Our Air B&B hostess was very chatty. She showed us to her deck which overlooked the bay and the cute little town. That’s where we would be setting up camp. She gave us towels and pointed us to the shower; showers are transformative. The nights when we had one available felt vastly different than when we did not. It was rejuvenating to my spirit. After the showers we were walking out to have what would turn out to be the most delicious meal of our trip (freshly caught red snapper with a side of tostones) when our hostess warned us to keep our things out of sight as her live-in mother-in-law has a penchant for stealing.

Some nights we didn’t lay down because we were tired but to escape the bombardment of mosquitos. This was one of those nights. We tried to wake up by 6AM to get on the road at first light at 6:45; this was to get as many miles done before the heat. Waking up in Naguabo was no problem. What was described on Air B&B as “the countryside sound of roosters” actually meant “the sound of 1000 roosters in our neighbor’s yard.” Contrary to popular belief, roosters do not just cock-a-doodle-doo at dawn. It is all day and all night. That coupled with the sound of the garbage man shoveling garbage out of the dumpster at 5AM allowed us to wake up early and get a headstart on packing. To that garbage man and that neighbor with roosters I would like to extend a cheerful YOU SUCK!

We headed to Patillas and died a slow and painful death on the way. What we thought was a hill was a mountain. A MOUNTAIN. We were low on water and had no snacks (foolish, we know). It was exhausting. We had to stop for breaks and push our 50+ pound bikes uphill. I wanted to hitchhike but the shoulder was too small for trucks to safely pull over. So onward and upward we went until we came to a restaurant. Our salvation. We filled up our water and ate three empanadas each. Not a super delicious food but it saved us.

Next thing we know we’re going through this really cool tunnel on highway 53. The shoulder was huge and the place was well-lit and, being a tunnel, it was shady. Hallelujah! 34.5 miles after we started for the day we rolled into what we refer to as the “scary beach” in Lamboglia. This was an unofficial campsite that someone on Air B&B told me, “People camp there but be gone by sunrise.” It was a city park with signs prohibiting camping in certain areas. The ocean was calm so we got in while we waited for nightfall to set up the tent. Needless to say, I woke up more than a few times that night: a couple having sex in the pavilion, three drunk guys talking and singing on the other side of some trees, and some early morning rain. Not a great sleep. Getting ready in the dark that morning I didn’t even realize I’d put my bike shorts on inside out. Whoops.

Throughout Puerto Rico we ran into cyclists. Sometimes one by himself and sometimes a herd of 40. They all thought we were crazy but shook our hands and wished us good luck.

Because shouting in a tunnel while on a bike is one of the coolest sounds, that’s why I love riding my bike.